“Search me!” said Rawlins. “Let’s get hold of old Monocle Eye and ask him!”
Suddenly Colcord bent forward, shaded his eyes with his hand and gazed ahead. “They’s a coorial yander!” he announced.
Instantly all turned and peered forward to where, barely visible among some rocks, they could now see a dug-out canoe apparently deserted.
“Run over and let’s have a look at it,” Mr. Thorne commanded the captain.
Swinging his big steering paddle and with a word to the Indians, the Boviander turned the boat from its course and headed for the little derelict.
As they drew near, they saw that it was drawn upon a ledge and was secured to the rocks and so placed that it was completely hidden from view except when approached from downstream.
“Odd!” ejaculated Mr. Thorne. “Some one left it here, but where can they be? This little pile of rocks wouldn’t conceal a rabbit and it’s fifty yards from shore. Funny place to leave a boat.”
The next moment they were alongside and as Rawlins leaned over and peered into the craft, he uttered a surprised exclamation. “By glory, it’s theirs!”
“Jove, you’re right!” affirmed Mr. Pauling.
There was no doubt of it. In the canoe was a Luger pistol, a cartridge belt, a few cans of food, a short-handled ax and a roll of kahki-colored cloth.